BTCG 08

Chapter 8 …

“Chairman Han gave me a hint on how to persuade you.”

Gasp. Dad? No way…
I can’t believe my own flesh and blood would betray me.

My father leaking information to the enemy just to sell off his daughter—
that’s no different from handing over confidential state documents.

“You’ve been involved in quite a few volunteer activities, I see. You’ve donated quite a bit too. Of course, not with your own money—Chairman Han’s money.”

As expected of Dad.
He knew exactly where to hit me where it hurt.

“I heard Chairman Han stopped funding the Orphan Support Association last year?”

What a negotiator.
This man was skilled at identifying and exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses.

If he was trying to use those donations as leverage to threaten me,
he was in for a rude awakening.
I purposely curled my lips into a wry smile.

“The chairman has already given plenty. The company itself donates a huge sum every year, and you’re saying I even asked him to raise the monthly amount?”

“So what, you plan to lure me in with that? Are you seriously going to use children’s meals as bargaining chips for your personal gain?”

I shot back coldly.
He raised one eyebrow slightly and replied, calm as ever.

“No. I’m not trying to cut off their meals. I’m saying we should create a new foundation under the name of Myeongil Group. On a whole different scale. Nothing like the small association you’ve been running.”

He continued, outlining what he clearly thought was a flawless plan.

“You could run that foundation as the chairwoman—well, as President Yoon Jae-ha’s wife, to be precise. It’ll help the group’s image, and it’ll benefit those receiving the support as well.”

I couldn’t stop myself from scoffing.

“You mean one of those so-called foundations run by rich wives? The ones that throw charity bazaars selling designer handbags and then brag about donating a fraction of the proceeds? Sure, that money’s needed too.”

Then, staring straight at him, I spoke firmly.

“But that’s not all there is. What’s needed are people who can reach deep into the places that truly need help.”

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face.

I didn’t miss the moment and pressed on.

“What you’re suggesting is nothing more than a publicity stunt for your company. What I want isn’t a show like that. I want to make real change. And using children’s livelihoods as a negotiation tool? That’s not something I can accept.”

He fell silent for a while.
He probably hadn’t expected me to push back this hard.

“You’re good at what you do. Keep doing it. Make your foundation reach deeper than the others. We’ll cover the donations. Vehicles, staff—whatever you need, we’ll support it.”

I’ll admit, the donation part caught my attention.
The truth was, ever since Dad cut off his funding, my organization had been struggling.

For the first month or two, I managed to stay afloat.
I sold the BMW Mom gave me as a gift, got my driver’s license, and used that money to cover expenses.
Then I sold a few luxury items I didn’t use anymore for cash.
I even considered selling my old laptop to a friend.

But the number of underprivileged children needing help kept growing,
and the financial hole just kept getting deeper.

“How much would you be willing to donate? Ten billion won a month—can you manage that?”

I felt pathetic.
I’d just sworn I wouldn’t be swayed by money, yet here I was naming an absurd figure.

Of course, I’d done it intentionally—
to see if he’d balk and back out of the negotiation.

‘If he flinches at the number and gives up first, I win.’

That was my hope when I said it.

But the man didn’t so much as blink.
Instead, he replied evenly,

“That’s exactly why Chairman Han refused. You throw around random figures without any basis. Prepare a proper budget—list what’s needed, how much it costs, and why. If it’s reasonable, whether it’s ten billion or a hundred billion, we’ll fund it.”

Okay, so he really was a capable CEO.

He radiated confidence—
not the arrogant kind, but the kind that said failure wasn’t in his vocabulary.
It was unsettling how precisely he seemed to read my smallest emotional shifts.

“Let’s set the marriage duration to six months. That should be enough.”

…What?

That single sentence shattered my resolve.

“Six months?”
I asked, staring at him.

He met my gaze squarely and spoke slowly.

“You seem hesitant, so I’ll be honest. Even if I’d married your sister, I was planning to end it after six months. It’s better if Chairman Han doesn’t know. I only need six months of alliance with Daehō Group. That’s more than enough. So? It’s a short-term deal with maximum efficiency. If I were you, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Six months.
Just six months.
If I could secure enough funding during that short time…

I could guarantee continued support for children who needed vocational training.
I could make sure no child went hungry again.

“And after six months? Will you cut off the foundation’s funding too?”

I asked bluntly.
He thought for a moment, then replied,

“The donations will continue under the group’s name. I promise.”

“How can I trust that? Even my dad said he was struggling financially and stopped his donations.”

He responded coolly, as if waiting for the question.

“That’s why people make contracts when they negotiate.”

He stood from the sofa and walked toward his study, saying succinctly,

“Follow me.”

A command? Seriously?

Still, I followed him, trying to calm myself down.

‘I’m not giving in. This isn’t about money. It’s about pursuing the dream I’ve worked for. That’s all this is.’

He sat down at the desk, picked up a pen, and began writing the terms of the contract one by one.
I stood beside him, watching like a student waiting for her exam results.

As I looked down at him, a strange thought struck me.

‘This isn’t a fake marriage—it’s a real one, isn’t it?’

That thought made me look at him differently.

The veins running over his hand as he wrote.
Broad shoulders.
The faint glimpse of a toned chest through the slight gap in his robe.

…This man was, what, 70% my ideal type?
Sure, I didn’t know about his personality yet,
but just on looks alone—he was a rare find.

“Read it carefully before signing.”

His voice snapped me back to reality.

Right. This wasn’t some romance.
This was a contract—
a display marriage bound by paper, nothing more.

The terms were brief and clear:

• The marriage shall last six months from the wedding date.

• During the marriage, both parties shall fulfill their public roles as spouses.

• Han Ye-sol will oversee the establishment and management of the Myeongil Group Foundation.

• Myeongil Group will provide funding as requested by the foundation.

• Funding will continue regardless of the marriage duration.

• Attendance at official events together is mandatory.

• Neither party shall interfere in the other’s personal life.

As I was reading, he added another line:

“If there’s any clause you’d like to add, tell me. Oh, right—you said you hate physical contact, didn’t you? Let’s include that.”

He took the pen and deliberately wrote down, audibly scratching the paper:

“No unnecessary physical contact between parties. Exception: official appearances.”

I stared at the new clause and thought,

‘The whole “I hate being touched” thing was a lie… but not a bad one to have written down.’

“Since this is just for show, we’ll live in the same house but keep separate living spaces.”

He added the final condition, then handed me the contract.

Once I signed, I’d officially be this man’s wife—for six months.

He slid the pen he’d used toward me.
I took it and signed my name—Han Ye-sol—in the blank space.
He signed his name as well, then extended his hand toward me.

“Let’s do well, Ms. Han Ye-sol.”

I looked down at his hand for a moment before taking it in mine.

‘It’s my first time doing something like this… but well, let’s see how it goes.’